


Sweater Weather

by kittenCorrosion



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff, Innocent, Post Season 2, Sharing Clothes, a lot of speculation/headcanon, extra fluffy fluff, fluffier than that sweater, i would die for them honestly, let my babies be happy, like idk i'm just pretending that everything is going to be happy at the end of season 2, mike's sweater, they deserve the world, this is just really cute okay, which is probably not true
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 03:28:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12424134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenCorrosion/pseuds/kittenCorrosion
Summary: “You like this thing?” Mike asked, face totally skeptical.“Yes!”“But it’s hideous. I only wear it because my mom makes me. And it’s really warm, I guess…”“I want it.”





	Sweater Weather

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: i wrote this before season 2 and honestly it was pretty damn close to what happened but i decided to fix it because it's an easy edit. i'm happy cause this still feels like it could be canon.
> 
> i love mike's dorky sweater and i like to think el would too and i couldn't resist. when was the last time i wrote a one shot?? eesh it's been forever. this is just cute and super fluffy. i hope you guys like it.

“El?”

The house was quiet. Too quiet, and Mike frowned as he walked into the living room, glancing around like she might be hiding somewhere. She wasn’t as skittish anymore and he didn’t think she would hide from him but…

_Thunk!_

There was a noise from upstairs and he blinked, heading towards the staircase and creeping up the stairs. His parents were gone, his dad at work and his mom at some Mother’s Council meeting thing that she was of course a part of. Holly was at daycare and they didn’t have school thanks to Thanksgiving Break, which was an entire week this year. It was only Monday and Dustin was planning on bringing his Atari over before they biked to the Palace. But Hopper had dropped El off early during his lunch break.

“El?” he called again, up the stairs.

The door to his room was cracked open and he frowned, wondering what she was doing in there. It was a mess which was why he’d taken her down to the basement and avoided it. She liked it down there anyways, the familiarity comforting. And her blanket fort was still standing, since he’d never had the heart to tear it down and give up his last hope that she was alive.

Because he’d been right.

“El, seriously, where are you?”

“I-In here,” came the quiet reply.

She _was_ in his room, or more specifically, in his closet, holding a pile of clothing and looking guilty, like she hadn’t expected him to come up looking for her. As if he hadn’t spent an entire _year_ looking for her.

“What are you doing?”

“Um…” she looked nervous. “Just… looking.”

“Looking? At my clothes?”

“...Yes?”

It was a question and he squinted. Her time with Hopper had made her better at lying, and some of his sardonic humor had rubbed off on her too. It only made her cuter and he bit back a smile as she blew one of her chestnut waves out of her face, arms too full to push it back with her hand.

“Okay, why are you looking at my clothes?”

“I want it.”

She was holding mostly jackets and hoodies and shirts, his pants in piles on the floor. He blinked, unsure of how she’d managed to completely decimate the entire closet and make an even bigger mess. His mom would be annoyed but he thought it was also kind of cute. Everything she did was cute.

“What do you want?” he asked. “Are you cold?”

“No…” She was dancing around the question. “I like it.”

“Like what, El?”

“The shirt with… drawings?”

“Drawings?”

She talked a lot more now but her vocab was still weak and he tried to figure out what she was saying. A shirt he had with drawings on it? He was busy trying to think of something that was close to what she wanted and she dropped all of the shirts and hoodies she’d been holding onto the floor, like it was no big deal, walking across the room to him.

His heart sped up as she reached out, her small hands gentle as she traced patterns, lines across his chest, zig-zagging back and forth. She was trying to explain, her face concentrated, but he felt goosebumps pop up on his arms and reached up, gently grabbing her hands to stop her, trying to find the word she was illustrating.

“Patterns? Like, designs on it?”

“Yes!” She lit up. “And soft… and brown?”

“Does it have long sleeves?”

“Yes.”

“Is it that uglyass sweater my grandma made me?”

She squinted, tilting her head. “Yes?”

He’d worn it two days ago, Friday, when she’d come over with the guys and they’d watched a movie in his living room. She’d fallen asleep on his shoulder, holding hands under the blanket she’d swathed herself with. It had been the best night of his life.

He didn't know it was the same sweater he'd been wearing when she'd seen him in the gym for the first time since she'd disappeared. She had liked it then and now she liked it even more.

But now he knew what she was talking about, going over the hamper in the corner of his room and lifting the lid, digging beneath dirty clothing until his fingers met the soft wool. With a tug he unearthed it and watched as her entire face lit up, her hands reaching towards him.

“You _like_ this thing?” he asked, face totally skeptical.

“Yes!”

“But it’s hideous. I only wear it because my mom makes me. And it’s really warm, I guess…”

“I want it.”

She snatched it out of his grip, not caring that it was crumpled and had been bunched up next to a pair of his gym socks, hugging it to her chest happily. He couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head at how such a small, ugly thing could make her so happy. His heart squeezed and he once again felt the relief wash over him. Of having her back. Of knowing she was safe.

“Um, if you like it that much—”

“Please?” She widened her eyes, a tactic clearly learned while she was with Hopper. It worked really well. “Please please please?”

“Yeah, you can have it. It’s kind of smelly—”

“No, it smells nice. Like you.”

He felt his entire face heat up, her words hitting him right in the chest. Part of him had been afraid, that if she was out there, she had been ignoring him because she didn’t like him anymore. He’d only known her for a week. She could have figured out something better. But she’d come back, during that hellish week of fear and panic, and her eyes had fixed on him the second she'd walked into the Byers' house.

A lot of it was blur, but he would never forget that moment.

He would never forget the way her face had broken, how her lips had curved up as she’d stared at him, like he was the only thing that mattered, and thenhe'd broken out of it and they'd moved towards each other. She’d looked so different, dressed like a some sort of punk rock star, her hair no longer buzzed but slicked back against her head, dark, smoky eyeliner making her look even tougher. But her eyes had been the same, her smile the same, and he’d cried so hard he’d burst a capillary in his eyeball.

That had been only a few weeks ago and she’d visited in the evenings after he got back from school. She lived with Hopper but was allowed to visit, albeit quietly, while he tried to figure out exactly what she would be allowed to do. School wasn't an option, at least not yet, but she was insistent on seeing Mike and Hopper didn't have the heart to say no anymore.

So here she was in front of him, clutching the sweater he'd secretly hated and giving him a sly smile that made his heart speed up.

“W-Well, uh, you don’t have to wash it I guess—” he started.

“More?”

“Hm?” He didn’t know what she was asking.

“Can I have more?” She walked over to the pile of clothes.

They were a little too big for her now that he was getting taller but he nodded. What wouldn’t he give her if she asked?

“Yeah, if you want a few things, I mean, I’m growing out of everything so fast anyways… I’m sure my mom won’t mind. What do you want?”

“This!”

She held up a dark blue, zip-up hoodie. His favorite hoodie. He didn’t even flinch.

“Yeah, of course. Anything else?”

“Um…” she looked down at the polos in front of her and picked one. “This?”

“Did you want those old sweatpants you had last time? I think they’re still in the back of my closet somewhere…” 

“Sweatpants?”

“They’re pants, but soft and grey?”

“Oh!” Her eyes flew wide and she looked eager. “Yes, please. I like those.”

“You like soft things, huh?”

“Yes. They feel nice. Better than... jeans,” her fingers brushed the overalls she was wearing.

Everything she wore seemed boyish but he didn't really care. Nancy had given El some of her old clothes after they'd come back and Joyce had helped Hopper pick up a few girlier things from the store, but they hadn't quite made it into regular circulation yet. Her shirt was pastel yellow with tiny purple flowers and he supposed she was going back to what she thought was "pretty".

He still did most of the talking when they hung out, her listening to him explain or tell stories or do whatever. She seemed to like it, prefer it even, but she spoke up now and then, asking questions or answering his. When he’d first spoken, after the shadow monster was gone and everything was calm again, she had looked him, brow furrowed.

“You’re different,” she’d said, frowning. “You sound different.”

“I do?”

“Lower.” Her hand had reached out and tapped his lip. “The sound here.”

“Oh, my voice? Um, yeah, I guess I haven’t seen you for a while so…” he shrugged, trying to pretend like his face wasn’t a thousand degrees. “That’s what happens when you grow up, um, your voice changes and gets lower.”

“Taller,” she’d nodded, looking up at him.

“Taller too, yeah.”

“It’s nice.”

He’d blushed so hard after that he’d had to go to the bathroom and try to compose himself. And now she was looking him with the same eyes she had then, soft and warm and he quickly passed her the clothing and stood back up, closing his hamper before she could see his dirty underwear.

“Mike?”

Her hand was on his arm and he turned back to her, eyebrows raised in interest, wondering if she needed something else.

“Yeah, El?”

Their eyes met and suddenly the room was warmer, his speech leaving him as she got closer, looking up at him with her giant, hazel-brown eyes. The same ones he’d stared into, lit by his flashlight, as they stood in the pouring rain. She’d come so far since then, they both had, and now he found himself reaching for her, wrapping her in his arms as she stared up into his face.

“I’m glad I’m home," her voice stuttered on that word and she shuddered in his arms. "I missed you.”

“I missed you too, El, I—”

“I know. I heard. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” she dimmed and he found he wanted to see her smile again.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t safe. I get that now. But you’re here. You’re home,” he assured her. “So don’t feel bad.”

There was a pause as she stared, eyes searching his and seeing that he was being honest. She relaxed but didn’t let him go, tilting her head, like she was waiting for something. And he realized what it was.

They hadn’t been alone a whole lot. She lived at Hopper’s cabin, and so far neither he or the others hadn't been allowed to visit in case she was discovered and needed to hide out longer. Most of the time when she came over, their friends were with them. She and Max had started a tentative friendship, both being rather badass and the only girls, and El was interested in Max's skateboard. Mike had begrudgingly decided was good for her even though he still wasn't super pleased that Dustin and Lucas had gone behind his back.

But now he was alone with her and she was looking up at him with those eyes and waiting for him, waiting like he’d waited for the past year. It was obvious and he swallowed the sudden butterflies, like he had before, tilting his chin down.

He stooped down and kissed her, feeling her sigh and lean into him. It was different than the first time, in the cafeteria late at night. That had been rushed, imperfect, and unsure. This was softer somehow, less of a question and more of an answer, and he closed his eyes, his heart beating so loudly he was sure she would hear it. He didn’t want the moment to end but he wasn’t sure what to do, what else he could do other than kiss her, his arms gripping a little tighter, her lips soft.

Pulling back he looked down, watching as she slowly blinked her eyes open, lips curving upward as he held her, arms securely wrapped around her.

“Um…” he didn’t know what to say.

“Better,” she nodded. “Then the first. I liked it.”

“You did?”

“Yes… it’s… a kiss?”

She’d seen people kiss on TV, but wanted to make sure it was the right word.

“Yeah. Kissing is—”

“Nice. Good,” she nodded confidently and he couldn’t help but smile.

“I like it too, El,” he flushed again, the red creeping up his neck. “Kissing you is really nice.”

“I missed you, Mike.”

He held her tighter, letting out a breath and reminding himself that it was real and that she was there in his arms.

“I missed you too, El.”

She pushed out of his arms, not meanly but casually, and bent down to pick up the sweater, holding it up. Pausing, she looked at him.

“Mike. Privacy?”

“Oh, you want to wear it now?”

“Yes.”

“Um, okay, I can leave or turn around…”

“Don’t leave. Just turn.”

He turned around instead, covering his eyes for good measure and listening to the shuffle of her feet and the rasping of fabric. After a second or two there was a satisfied sigh.

“Okay.”

The sweater fit her better than it did him and he tried not to act too pleased. She looked so good in his clothes and he felt weirdly guilty for thinking so, biting his lip and nodding.

“It looks good on you,” he smiled.

“Pretty?”

“You always look pretty,” he blurted. "Beautiful, actually."

His face turned crimson and he considered turning around and running away but the smile that lit up her face made him think twice.

"Beautiful is... better than pretty?"

"Yeah."

She smiled even wider. “Thank you, Mike.”

There was a bang from downstairs and then voices stared echoing. Loud, familiar voices.

“Mike?! I brought the Atari!” Dustin yelled. “Can we set it up in the living room?”

“Yeah!” He yelled back.

“Cool!”

Dustin was the only who yelled up to them but they could hear Max and Lucas too. Mike sighed, realizing the bit of peace and alone time he’d had with El was definitely over. Damn it. She started to leave the room, to go down to them, a smile on her face, but he caught her arm. She paused and turned to him in the hallway, eyebrows raised in question. He licked his lips nervously.

“Um, are you going to come over again tomorrow? Early, like you did today?”

She nodded. “Yes. I want to be with you. Without them. I like it.”

“Y-Yeah, uh, me too,” he nodded.

There was a pause and then she turned and pressed a kiss to his cheek, something she’d seen in a movie, whirling around and flouncing down the stairs before he could react, smiling happily and seeming satisfied with what had happened between them. He stood, frozen, his face flaming _again_ , but then he smiled, watching her sweater-covered figured disappear, and sighed happily before chasing her down the stairs.

**Author's Note:**

> for the record i am working on the last chapter of the light you make, but i just had to take a break and get this out of my system. i figured it's plausible since he shared his clothes with her in the first season. you guys, there's like... a week until we finally watch them suffer.
> 
> please suffer brothers, let there be mileven.
> 
> validate me below! <3  
> -g


End file.
